


Misadventures of all Kinds

by kei_reads



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Comedy, Crack, Fluff, Multi, One Shot Collection, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-06-18 11:44:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15485022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kei_reads/pseuds/kei_reads
Summary: No matter where you were, what timeline you stepped into or whatplacein time you stepped into, you could never quite get things right. You trip and stumble your way through quadrants and narrow run-ins with death but at least you can say you looked damn good while doing it!Homestuck reader-insert oneshot book, mostly romantic or comedic!





	1. Subject of Subjugglators (Grand Highblood)

This "trial" was a formality, and you knew it. It was a farce that was only delaying the inevitable. So much of your hue caked the walls already, like a macabre warning. You were going to be a smear on the Highblood's club, and some poor troll was going to have to wash your gore off for the next poor fucker that existed below blue.

 

A shitblood nobody like you stood no chance to survive the titan of a troll, sitting high on his throne above you.

 

You swallowed.

 

"Well, well, if this isn't just most miraculous of fuckin' coincidences! I was up and needing a one like you to finish painting this walls up nice and colorful!" His voice boomed around the room, you ducked your head and stared at the floor. All you could hear above you was a low growl. He didn't like that. You could hear the chuckles from the other subjugglators. Piss.

 

"Now we could listen to your defense and act all _MOTHERFUCKING PROPER ABOUT THIS SHIT_ , but I don't think a peasantblood like you has enough mirth in that fuckin' pan, _NOT NEARLY ENOUGH MIRTH TO PLEASE ANY FUCKING GOD IN THIS ROOM_ , so let's cut the fat right off..." You heard his throne groan in relief as his massive body heaved up and off sluggishly. Each step he took made the floor tremble and you consider just how humiliating it would be if you pissed your pants right now. 

 

You heard his club drag towards you as he grasped it and approached you. It was getting harder to breathe. You could see a splatter of your caste's blood color right at your feet, adding to your panic. Nothing was going right for you today, holy shit. "Your crimes will all go away, fluttered off on the motherfucking breeze of forgiveness peasantbro, if you can accomplish one task..."

 

You slowly looked up. His eyes were tinged red, and you could feel a lump forming in your throat. His club came to a halt right beside you, lingering in your peripheral as a threat. You didn't break eye contact.

 

"Make me laugh."

 

"It would be a lot easier to that if your bulge wasn't right in my face waving hello," You didn't hesitate, your nerves were making everything feel electric you actually seemed to have caught him off guard, judging by how his eyes widened the slightest bit. "This whole time I've been trying not to stare at it but now it's right there and I'm surprised it isn't poking me right in the eye at this point." You fluttered your lowblood eyes at him innocently, as if you weren't talking about private stuff kept between his and whatever unfortunate pailing partner he had, "Do you use the club to scale?"

 

There was a beat of silence.

 

Then an amused snort from the Highblood. Holy fucking shit. Did you actually manage to break the Grand Highblood? He turned his face up to the blood-soaked ceiling and chuckled quietly under his breath. Not a raucous laugh but judging by the jerking of his head, it was enough. Hands from more purple trolls latched onto you and hauled you out of the room, ready to throw you out to die another day.

 

You watched as the Grand Highblood sat back down on his throne, watched as his eyes rolled back to your retreating figure and you saw how he spread his legs just the tiniest bit wider. 

 

A dick joke just saved your life.


	2. Never Let You Fall (Mituna)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is a rewrite from 2013 of one of my earlier fanfictions on my oldest deviantART account, that I liked the idea of but couldn't do justice to at the time. So when I randomly logged into it and saw someone faving the mess that was the original version of this, I had to redo it. I apologize if there's a lot of errors this is really long and I only write in one sitting and never proofread sO

Between the dream bubbles being perfectly kept memories, it was hard to find a bad day among them. At least in the dream bubbles, the sun didn't outright kill a troll, so it was the perfect weather to sit down for a rare quiet moment. Which was just what Latula convinced Mituna to do with her. They sat on the grass and watched the clouds roll by above them. Mituna could almost feel normal in the peace of the moment.

 

That was right up until a book hurled and smacked against his helmet covered head. "WHAT N THE FUCK SHIT?!"

 

His limbs flailed as he fell forward, his head between his knees. Latula cursed and rolled onto her knees to check on Mituna. Her shades didn't cover the pissed off glare that she directed at her babe's assailant. She expected to see Cronus snickering, but instead, she spotted your descendant picking the book up off the ground, her own glare fixed on Mituna. A growl rose up in Latula's chest that was silenced by a shockingly dark glare from your descendant. She actually felt herself cringing back. "What in the hizzy do you think you're doing?! Coming out of nowhere doing that messy business?!"

 

"That nookchafe left my dancestor!" Her glare fixed back onto Mituna, now turning his face to look at her. Was it normal to be scared of someone who's only six sweeps? "He's lucky a book was the only thing I had in my hand, I'd woulda made him double dead!"

 

"Left her, but I just saw her earlier in another bubble!" Mituna ducked again, he was confused on so many levels. Why did his response make the mini-you so angry? Your descendant snarled to herself, then pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to calm herself down. She couldn't entirely blame him for acting like his brain was made up of pudding.

 

"I don't mean today, you half-baked bulgesponge, I meant entirely. Your matesprit, she was your matesprit and you left her! Ringing any bells yet?" Mituna's shoulders tensed, and he whipped his head to look at Latula for some kind of answer. She was smart, a lot smarter than him, why wasn't she setting this straight the way he couldn't? Instead, he saw her face turned away from him, looking off into the distance. She was frowning. He didn't like that. He looked back to you angry descendant.

 

"What...what the fuck do you mean?" He felt his voice shaking and his hand twitching. He didn't like this. He had nothing to hold on to.

 

"Finally, god. It was before your accident or whatever, look!" She shoved a book into his hands. Good. He could ground himself. Or so he thought until he looked seriously at the pages. It was full of pictures...of the two of you. Some kind of scrapbook, and a well used one. Each page was filled with pictures with little captions. Quotes or feelings recorded on the pages.

 

_"The day Mituna got a new husktop", "Fell down the stairs, but got saved by the best matesprit!", "I am Troll Darth Vader, eat shit!"_

 

His eyes traced every picture, every word. His eyes got drawn to a picture on the second page, it was you and him, like in most of them. You were clinging to his shirt with a wide-eyed stare. You looked scared but excited as you almost ripped the fabric. His lips quirked the smallest bit. He saw himself, no scars around his eyes, though they were covered by a pair of blue/red sunglasses. He was smiling, looking like he was in the middle of laughing. He looked happy.

 

Under the picture there was a quote, _"I will never let you fall!"_

 

Something in his head tingled.

 

In another picture on the same page, there you were sporting red/blue headphones around your neck, while around his were a pair of beat up broken ones. He felt he could almost remember that day. His was winking at you, his blue eye closed. He could remember it, just for a moment. _"I can't like my rad babe go without headphones! Take mine, but look after them doll! If you lose em, you're gonna owe me fuckton of smooches!" He was hoping you would lose them the next day._

 

He shook the feeling off, the nostalgia stuck for some reason. Mituna wasn't sure he liked that. He turned the page, he needed to know more. Whatever this was, this book knew more about him than his own mind seemed to. These pages featured you and your friends, all of them. Some seemed really mundane, just creepshots or group photos, but in one, it had the two of you, Kurloz and even Kankri. It seemed like something out of a shitty troll sitcom. In the picture he was looking pissed off, the glow around his eyes suggested his psionics were active and he had a haughty looking Kankri by the collar of his shitty red sweater. Kurloz seemed to be trying to calm the situation down. No stitches either. You were sitting in the background, looking like you were howling with laughter, your grubcorn a mess around you.

 

He felt a laugh bubbling in his throat when in his mind the pictures began to move, and he was reliving that memory.

 

_"Mituna, your cocky antics, and dangerous shenanigans have been the cause of a lot of concern. I wouldn't want to jump right to say you're triggering other trolls, but you really should reconsider your behavior. Think about your poor matesprit, it must be very stressful having you in her red quadrant." Kankri lectured from his spot on the loungeplank, arms crossed looking so high and mighty. It stomped on Mituna's last nerve._

_"Shut your windhole, Vantas!" Mituna's hand shot out to haul Kankri up from his ass, lifting him just off the ground enough to glare at him eye-to-eye. "I'm seriously going to optic blast you into the next sweep if you keep talkin'!"_

_"Threats of violence and physical contact with someone expressing concern for you and your relationship is highly offensive. You're not tagging anything, and not warning anyone in the room other than me of your impending outburst. Perhaps this lends itself to why you were culled in the first place?" Kankri didn't flinch at the flashes of red and blue or Mituna's hand clenching into a fist. A larger hand caught his arm as he went to pull it back._

_"Mituna, chill brother. There ain't no reason to up and hit him." Kurloz kept his voice level, even as Mituna tried to jerk his arm against his hold. He really wanted to punch Vantas._

_He didn't stop. The goldblood tried to punch the mutant again but was held back by his moirail. "Let me knock his teeth in 'Loz! No one talks that bulge spiel about me and my babe!"_

_There was a snort of laughter. All three boys turned to look at you, trying to retain your giggles and failing. With a very attractive snort, you broke and threw your head back, loud laughs exploding from your chest. His psionics died down, and his whole body softened up at the sound._

_"Oh, 'Tuna, you're a riot!"_

_His hand finally released Kankri. He let the troll step out of his reach and didn't spare another glance at him. The sound drew out all the anger in his body._

_"Red for you too, baby!"_

 

The spell was broken by his own yellow tears hitting the glossy pages, obstructing his view. Mituna sobbed quietly, for once able to reign in his usual violent emotions. Latula sidled up beside him, wrapping a comforting arm around his shoulder and letting him take comfort in the closeness. The energy between them was gone, and they both felt it. Latula bowed her head sadly, no quip to shout.

 

Your descendant took the book from his weak resistance, wiped his tears off of it and slid it under her arm. She gave the pair a resolute nod, then tilted her chin up and spun on her heel, ready to walk away and let them do what they pleased with the knowledge she just dropped on them.

 

"Gangway!" A voice shrieked from above. All three heads turned upward. Grinding down a nearby rail was none other than you, on that oh so familiar skateboard. His old board. And even around her neck after all these sweeps, only a few scratches on their surface were those headphones he'd given you. Blasting the soundtrack to some skating video game to get you in the zone, he guessed. He felt a wash of fondness roll over him, a feeling quickly overtaken by panic as one of the wheels caught and knocked you off the board.

 

"Shit!" Your famous last words as you prepared for your double death.

 

He shouted your name, Mituna's hands pulled his helmet off of his head. Like a splash of water, all his memories came flooding back to the forefront of his mind, this time to stay. He wasn't going to forget, not again. His white, dead eyes sparking with light for the first time in so long. He planted a foot forward, reaching out an arm to try and catch you. A familiar buzz down from his head to his arm.

 

He grinned.

 

Your eyes were clamped tightly at you braced for impact. You swore to whatever gods that existed you would wear a helmet from now on, like a proper skatertroll. But the pain never came. So your neck snapped on impact or something? Sweet. You've died more painful deaths, this was like a death 12th Perigee's Eve.

 

"Y'know, you can open your eyes whenever you want, babe." Your white eyes shot open. You knew that lisp like you knew your own breath, but it hadn't sounded like that in who knows how long. Then you noticed it, the humming squirmy feeling in your guts, that weightlessness around your body. Impossible. But it wasn't. You saw the alternating red and blue glow around your body, like being caught and paused in midair. Even your board was floating.

 

You looked to Mituna, your mouth audibly popping open. The same cheeky smirk you fell for sweeps ago was spread across his face and only grew wider the more you gawked. It was like a picture from the past, but you could see the scars on his face. This was Mituna, your Mituna. But...how? This was impossible, he broke his mind and blew his psionics out sweeps ago!

 

Mituna huffed a laugh, curling his hand to draw you closer to him. You took the chance to look closer at him. "Damn, bumble butt, it's been a long time since you looked at me like that! Still feeling flushed for this pissblood dumbshit?"

 

"Mituna...is this...?" You stared at him, colored tears welling up in your blank eyes. You were in complete disbelief, this was impossible in so many ways. His smirk grew into a grin, his double fangs peeking out against his lips. But you could see under his hair, his eyes were a dull blue and red, instead of milky white but they were so, so loving.

 

"I promised I wouldn't let you fall, didn't I?" The dam broke and your vision swam. Your dear Mituna was just a blur of your color that cascaded down your cheeks. Mituna felt himself choke up and dropped his psionics, letting you fall into his arms where he held you against his chest. He gently swayed with you, your scent barely changed from all those sweeps ago. Finally, that restlessness he'd been dealing with simmered down to nothing. Your tight grip on him was more comforting than any hive. Something distantly in his mind registered a few sounds, but they didn't matter. The two of you were in your own bubble now.

 

"I made you hurt, babe. I'm sorry. I'll spend every day in every bubble to make it up to you." He whispered quietly into your hair, and the tightening of your grin on him was answer enough. He pressed a kiss to your horn then let out a distressed noise when you made him loosen his hold on you. You turned to look up at him, "What about 'Tula?"

 

Ah. Right. He'd gotten so caught up in you, he'd forgotten about his well, full quadrant. He sighed and turned, ready to apologize to Latula for so many things, only to see she was gone. Your descendant was the only one still standing there, a camera in her hands. She wasn't even pretending like she was giving you two privacy. "Latula left already, she says she wishes you the 'most rad of relationships', which means you just got dumped, Captor. Rejoice at your freshly opened quadrant with which you will now fill up again. I've taken the liberty of updating both of your Trollbook statuses and even uploaded come kissy candids. Huzzah. Now, have a nice day." 

 

And like that, she was gone. Stepped out of this bubble and on to the next, not even looking back once.

 

"Bye, little me," You waved at her passing bubble, the two of you watching her go in silence. Mituna tilted his head and looked down at you, tucked under his arm like you belonged there.

 

"So...can I get my headphones back?"


	3. Once You Were Afraid (Kurloz)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a hot mess of nothing really because I just got overwhelmed with Kurloz feels and decided to shit out a fanfic. I don't know where I was going but here it is, enjoy oof

Getting into a relationship with the purpleblood wasn't easy, if only because of your friend's interference. His matespritship with Meulin had ended in heartbreak, leaving the clown a mime and your dear friend deaf. You didn't know what to do with yourself when you saw them the first time, so broken from who they used you be. You cried, you cried until your eyes stung and your throat burned while Kurloz had just watched you in silence. It broke your heart, but in its own twisted way it brought you closer. You had no illusions of fixing him, your once talkative friend would never say your name again or be able to profess his love of you the way he could Meulin.

But that was fine. You learned how to sign together, it felt more intimate when you had to watch each other to "hear" each other. You both taught Meulin, and it helped heal what was shattered between them, and evolve it into something new. Even if your other friend's warned you against it, calling him a shady character or worrying that he would hurt you the same way he did Meulin. Their concern was sweet, but ultimately it was selfish. They didn't know him. They didn't know his circumstances.

Beforus was a peaceful planet, but that was only the surface.

When Kurloz first introduced you to his cult, you were wary. You didn't know what it was he wanted you to do, what reaction he wanted from you when he passionately signed out to you hymns and declarations to his messiahs. You wanted to be supportive of him - of course, you did! But at the time, something about it just felt..off to you. Maybe it was because you weren't the same caste, you didn't pupate with the same fanatic devotion that he had.

He told you not to worry about it, promised you would understand in time. For the longest time, you didn't.

**May the Mirthful Messiahs look on to what we have wrought and tremble at the offerings of our most gracious motherfuckin' work.**

But then, with all the tragedy that plagued your session, you wanted something to cling onto. Kurloz, your Prince of Rage, was unassailable. His faith was unshakable, it scared you when he would talk to you about the end times. When everything you had ever known would come to an end because his gods had willed it. You didn't like it when he would tell you about those prophecies. It made you think of Mituna, before the incident. He predicted doom with genuine fear and terror for his friends. Kurloz seemed to welcome it.

There was so much pain, you couldn't understand how he could want more of it. How he could be proud of his death cult when his own moirail was damaged beyond repair. But he was the only one there, the only one who saw what had happened to Mituna. You didn't want to be suspicious of your own love's involvement in the downfall of his best friend, but you also couldn't rule it out either. All the pieces seemed to fall into place, and he wouldn't even sign to you what had happened. He made it clear no one was going to unlock that secret from him, no matter what. He would carry it to his end.

**Praise them, regale them with our wicked words as we wait for their judgment. A-fucking-men.**

But then you all died, you failed and you died. Suddenly, it was like your perspective shifted. You've seen the end, and you embraced it. There was no more fear left in you, how could there be? What you were so afraid of was inside you now, you could feel the mad whispers when you closed your eyes, the screams of the Messiahs warped your memories and shaped the dream bubbles. When Kurloz saw it, saw what a kaleidoscope of colors your brain had become he spoke to you in your mind for the first time. It was the first time in eons that you got hear his voice and it felt like home.

**My red beauty has seen the light, and it colors their skin all shades of stunning. Tonight my flushed one is enlightened. We'll toss back our wicked elixir in celebration, they've been saved.**

He showed you things, beautiful spires painted in rainbows. He told you things, told you of the little failed Empress' plans to stop what was to come. It made you angry. You had just found peace and prosperity in your death and that heretic was going to stop the Mirthful one? Disgraceful. But your Kurloz had assured you that she would fail. She was going up against the wrathful ones, and he would see her to her double death for even thinking such heinous thoughts.

He took your hand and lead you through his own paths in the dream bubbles. All made by every single secret he collected in life and has kept in his death. The joy you felt getting to walk those riddles - there were no words for it. It was a bliss no troll would ever fully understand. And your joy elated your matesprit. His blank, dead eyes would light up and the grip of his chucklevoodoos would wrap your brain up so tightly you couldn't tell where you ended and where he began. The invasion was like sex to you now. What you'd felt as an insult to your freedom became the embodiment of why you were free.

And you knew that he'd done nothing to warp your view himself. He gave you the knowledge and let you do what you wanted with it. And you choose the enlightened path. It could have been easier to throw him out, toss aside his red feelings and leave him to hold himself alone in the mix of pain and bliss of his cult finally doing its duty but having to do it so alone. But he didn't have to, you chose the path of suffering and mirth all on your own. As your arms wrapped around him, your eyes lighting up the same flickering purple as his own, you couldn't imagine something more miraculous than this.

**When the Messiah comes and hears your wicked prayers, feels that you speak with the same conviction as our brothers and sisters, he will raise you to your rightful place. That is a motherfuckin' promise.**

**_HONK._ **

**Honk.**

**:o)**


End file.
